


you and me, forevermore

by chaoticisms



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Songfic, new year's, somewhat canon compliant, they get together way earlier than season 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:15:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28480761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaoticisms/pseuds/chaoticisms
Summary: Five times Melinda May celebrates New Years'.A songfic for New Years Day by Taylor Swift
Relationships: Phil Coulson/Melinda May
Comments: 12
Kudos: 28





	you and me, forevermore

**Author's Note:**

> title from New Years Day by Taylor Swift

i.

_There's glitter on the floor after the party_  
_Girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby_

Melinda May had lived, died, and everything in between through countless New Years’. It always ended with little black dresses, fur coats, empty flutes of champagne, balloons, streamers, themed hats and glasses, glitter stuck to the soles of the heels she begrudgingly wore for the night. It’s a list of promises for better or for worse, and relief that she survived another year. 

_Candle wax and Polaroids on the hardwood floor_  
_You and me from the night before, but_

After forty-odd years, though, she was getting too old for New Years Day. 

The team wasn’t big on holidays, but New Years' was sacred. It was twenty-four hours of explosive glitter from the floors to their bodies, confetti poppers (or, in Fitz’s case, canons), towers of champagne, heels that’ll ultimately be hand-held to their bedrooms, and by the end, Melinda would quietly place a bottle of water and two Advil on each nightstand. 

_Don’t read the last page_  
_But I stay when you're lost and I'm scared and you’re turning away_

They all deserved that night of oblivion. Killer robots, aliens, space, time travel, HYDRA, death, framework, clones - they survived it all. No matter what crazy shit the next year brought, just that one night the team could breathe that they’re still standing. 

They deserved to celebrate. 

And it always ended where she would crawl into bed and wrap herself around the reason she survived another year whispering promises she hoped to keep. _I’ll always find my way back to you._ No matter how many times the universe tried to separate them, New Year’s Day was the one day they managed to always be together. He’d always pretend to be asleep, but he’d always crack when his lips curved upwards after she placed one final New Years' kiss. 

_I want your midnights_  
_But I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day_

She woke up in Phil’s arms as he snored a little louder than usual as his head hung slightly off of the pillow. They were surrounded by empty bottles of alcohol and glitter. She didn’t throw the party, but somehow it ended up in their room. 

Everyone was drunk or asleep and now it was January 1st and she felt like crap with a wicked hangover and had her home to clean. She squeezed Phil’s hand before reluctantly untangled herself from his embrace to start at least vacuum up the shards of glass before someone stupidly stepped on some. 

_You squeeze my hand three times in the back of the taxi_  
_I can tell that it's gonna be a long road_

Not the best way to start the New Year but, hey, at least they made it. 

When she heard a noise coming from the kitchen, she decided to check it out, assuming it’s probably one of Daisy’s _guests_ who needed to be shooed out. But what she doesn’t expect is Daisy, Mack, Yoyo, Fitz, and Simmons on their knees, picking up bottles and bits of broken glass and attempting to sweep up all the glitter that had basically stuck itself to every surface in the kitchen. Phil snuck up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist before putting his head in the crook of her neck. “We raised some good kids, huh.” 

She just smiled in response. 

_I'll be there if you're the toast of the town, babe_  
_Or if you strike out and you're crawling home_

ii.

At some point, that laughter’s ringing through the hallways, the CNN hosts are smashed on the TV, drunkenly counting down to till the stupid fucking ball drop at midnight, the cheers and screams sealed with a kiss when the clock strikes midnight doesn’t feel so glittery when the only person you want to celebrate it with isn’t there anymore. 

_Hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you_  
_Hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you_

It was the sympathy eyes from Mack and Jemma, skittish speeches from Fitz, and watery smiles from Daisy and Elena. They were all thoughtful and celebrated off base. No one really wanted to kiss their partner at midnight in front of her. She wasn’t sure if it was out of respect or out of fear, but she didn’t care; she was just glad it wasn’t in front of her. The only glitter you’d ever find would be in the cracks of doors and cement lamented as the last good new year Melinda May had. 

So, New Years' became dull. She didn’t really see the point in celebrating it; it was just another year of everyone around her leaving her. Another year of loneliness, heartache, and alcohol. Lots of it. 

It was just another year without him.

Still, every night she would put a water bottle and two Advil on all of their nightstands after she watched a muted Anderson Cooper pop a bottle of champagne as the ball dropped on her tv screen, and would wait to hear the soft giggles, running into walls, and bare feet hitting the pavement as her kids stumbled back onto the base until she would fall asleep. She whispered promises to his old t-shirt she hoped to keep. _I’ll find my way back to you._

_Hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you_  
_And I will hold on to you_

iii.

When Melinda moved off-base and into a comfortable three-bedroom loft to start her new life at the Academy, the remnants of her last good New Years didn’t haunt her and the ghosts of the living, the dead and the in-between didn’t follow her when she would politely decline another invitation to celebrate. 

_Please don't ever become a stranger_  
_Whose laugh I could recognize anywhere_

Her new colleagues and students didn’t give her pity, they didn’t even know. They just handed her a balloon and a gold hat to pose for department pictures. They decorated her desk with confetti and even left a swish of glitter that’d be easy to clean up. They ate cake, made small talk, clanked sparkling apple cider in plastic dollar-store champagne glasses, and went on about their days. 

_Please don't ever become a stranger_  
_Whose laugh I could recognize anywhere_

And that started to feel like a new tradition just enough for her to promise maybe the next year would be less bittersweet. 

iv.

_There’s glitter on the floor after the party_  
_Girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby_

It took a few years, but somehow Melinda did find a way back to him. Or, rather, he found a way back to her. She didn’t really know and didn’t really care how her kids pulled it off. He stood outside her house on the last day of December 31st with a bouquet of roses, a bottle of champagne, and one promise that he’d be able to keep. The black vein across his chest vanished, but his hand still lit up when he held it out to show his new improvements. 

_Candle wax and Polaroids on the hardwood floor_

All she knew is that traditions change, but what’s sacred became sacred again. And just like that New Year’s Day was covered and glitter and empty bottles of champagne. 

_You and me forevermore_

v.

_**Three Years Later** _

"Just us?" She asked, looking into the kitchen but finding that just as empty as the living room.

_Don't read the last page_  
_But I stay when it's hard or it's wrong or we're making mistakes_

He made this face like maybe he planned for a quiet night. No matter how much they loved Daisy and missed the rest terribly, there’s something sweet about the stillness. They’d earned that stillness. Strangely, that's one of the things that made it feel like home. That happy, relaxed smile on Phil's face was starting to be one of the others. "It's just us.”

At some point, in between her shrugging off her coat and saying, "well, that's a nice change of pace," he got his arms around her waist and his lips on her neck and it all kind of goes south from there. They ended up on the couch, their hands all over one another, her in her bra and the blouse she'd worn completely unbuttoned, him with his pants half off, like two horny teenagers. 

_I want your midnights_  
_But I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day_

She couldn’t help but think the last time they had sex like this, all frantic and desperate was on the beach in Tahiti. Only he’s alive, healed, and there’s no internal timer counting down the seconds she had left with Phil on this earth, and that feels so very, very strange, having all of him without worrying when she wakes up if he’ll be dead or alive. It's strange but it's good. It felt so fucking good. 

_Hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you_  
_Hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you_

He felt good too. Warm and hard underneath her, as she rocks her hips, flexes in this way that she knows makes him groan, the way that she figured out by accident, and he later came to describe it as ‘the bendy thing' because she’s still so flexible. They'd really gotten this down to a science by now, they knew where to touch and which way to move and when. It sounded like it would be boring, it should be boring, taking all the thrill out of discovery, but it's not. It feels right, most of the time.

Vaguely, Melinda could hear the familiar countdown start on the television, see the flashing lights against their skin, green and blue and purple, a sharp contrast to the reds and yellows behind her eyelids because all her nerve endings are just absolutely on fire as she comes around him, back arching and hands gripping both him and the couch cushion.

_Hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you_

She remembered to breathe when the countdown hit twelve. She smiled at nine. At five, he'd given her a breathy "happy new year", and she didn't even see the ball drop because he was kissing her and she was so wrapped up in him she didn't even know what year it just turned.

_And I will hold on to you_

\--

"Phil," he wakes up to her prodding his shoulder. "Phil." She kept poking at his shoulder blade, eyes roaming his figure as if he was about to disappear. 

He rubs the sleep from his eyes. "I’m real, Mel. Alive. Not dead. Not a toaster. Third time’s the charm." 

Her breath caught just a little, barely audible, and she smiled around the word, "right", before dropping down so that her head half hit the pillow, half rested against his shoulder. 

The scars of their Shield lives were healing slowly. Those few months she was with Phil in Tahiti, there was nothing she was more desperate for than that other life they gave up when they became Shield agents. Every time she smiled there, she remembered they were together on borrowed time. That expiration date on his life scared the shit out of her as they imagined what their life would’ve been like while wrapped up in the most magical place in the world. Dinner conversations were just fantasies of domesticity in DC and longing for a life they might’ve had in another lifetime. She wanted nothing more than to come home to his open arms every night. Good things only lasted for so long for her. 

And, yet, here they were. 

Even after three years of (mostly) uninterrupted happiness, Melinda still wakes up from time to time in disbelief. Things never stayed easy for her, but Phil never hesitates to remind her he’s alive, they’re happy and they have a beautiful, dysfunctional family scattered across the globe, safe and healthy. Daisy was coming home today and Phil may or may not still geek out every time he sees Sousa. Flint was still with Mack and Elena for the holidays, but they planned on stopping by to see Daisy while she was here. 

_Don't read the last page_  
_But I stay when it's hard or it's wrong or we're making mistakes_

She thinks they made a great life together in the last three years. It’s a happy medium between the life they had and the life they wanted. They live comfortably in a midsize house in Alexandria. Most of their neighbors are ex-Shield agents, so they’re probably the most secure neighborhood in the DMV. They adopt a dog and Phil has two fish in a small tank he likes to call an aquarium. He teaches Shield history and consults with Mack on occasion, Melinda was the Dean and it’s an interesting dynamic now that Phil professionally answers to her. She loves reminding him every time he tries to lecture her to take a break. 

He cooks most nights, they do groceries on Tuesdays after work at the local supermarket, Melinda still does Tai-Chi at 5:00am, Sundays are sacred pancake breakfasts, and once a month they visit one of the kids. They put in place a rule that they have to stop working by 8, and then they usually sit on the couch and let Alex Trebek’s voice become white noise. Daisy’s got Phil hooked on Tiktok, so he scrolls for hours, the sound of the videos chased by his cackles occupy the time. She’s content just watching him light up just to remind herself that he’s alive. 

They’ve made a great life together. 

He listened to the sound of her breathing evening out for a few seconds before asking, "Marry me?"

There's a long moment where he just considers rolling over and shutting his eyes, pretending he didn’t ask that. He silently hoped she was just asleep enough that she didn’t register it. They didn’t need rings or a reception that told them they’d move heaven and earth to be with one another, but she wanted it and he would do anything for her. 

_I want your midnights_  
_But I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day_

Melinda's eyes shot open and she was instantly on her side, resting her weight on her elbow, facing him. "Why?"

After almost 40 years of cheating death, jumping through dimensions, being held hostage, separated in space, possessed by an ancient being, a brief stint as an empath and an LMD, and still coming back to each other, ‘til death do us part’ didn’t seem like it held that much meaning anymore. But, what’s another piece of paper? He shrugged as much as he could while lying flat on his back. 

"Because I love you."

“Well, then, that better be a promise.” She smiled as her lips brushed softly against his before he laid her head back on his shoulder, closing her eyes. She saw two brown pills and a bottle of water on her nightstand. New Year’s Day was a sacred holiday. 

_Please don't ever become a stranger_  
_(To the memories, they will hold on to you)_  
_Whose laugh I could recognize anywhere_  
_(Hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you)_  
_Please don't ever become a stranger_  
_(Hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you)_  
_Whose laugh I could recognize anywhere_  
_(I will hold on to you)_

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year's! We made it through 2020! We all deserve all the cake, ice cream (and if you're of age) booze, in the world. I've never written a songfic (even though most of my titles are from songs), but New Year's Day has been on repeat for me for the last day and I got inspired!


End file.
